The Beginnings of Something Grand
by ThreeBlindMice
Summary: Meet Eren Duval, an aspiring young man who's only wish is to become a trainer in a world where this has become increasingly difficult. He has the will, he has the discipline, but can he qualify for a spot in a region that has become aware of the dangers within a journey? My first story and most likely a One-Shot.


**A/N: I used to have an old FanFiction account, but my activity dwindled, and I'm not even sure if it exists anymore. Regardless, as a small disclaimer, there won't be a ton of content posted on this one, as I'm using it mainly for reviewing and such.**

**This story will most likely not be going beyond a one-shot.**

**I'm rather into Pokémon X/Y currently, and I absolutely adore some of the 3-D designs. As such, a FanFic was born!**

**I own absolutely nothing in this short story. All rights to the ideas behind Pokémon are due to Gamefreak and Nintendo, respectively.**

The light streaming into my window was likely what woke me up at the fairly early hour, at least for me, of six thirty in the morning. Or perhaps it was my own excitement? I can't be sure, but regardless of the reason, I knew once I cracked open my eye-lids that I wouldn't be able to return to me shallow slumber.

Today was the day that most people in the Kalos region anticipated their whole lives. At the measly age of 16, everyone is required to take physical, mental, and practical tests to determine whether they have an aptitude for Pokémon. It's a day that may be dreaded or filled with excitement, and it is most definitely a day of momentous importance.

I leap out of my narrow bed with an eagerness I was almost surprised to see. My appointed test time is at 9:30 in the morning, giving me apt opportunity to eat, stretch, and do some last minute studying. Many of my peers have decided to simply wing the test and hope that natural talent would win out, but I refused to be part of the rabble in this. I had been raised around Pokémon my entire life, and I wouldn't allow anything to get in my way of receiving a Class Five license, at the very least.

Never had I been considered physically fit, and I had never really been called a braniac. Born sickly and sitting at the awkward stage between average and intelligent, everything I had thus far achieved had been through hard work. My acceptable grades, ranked 139 in a class of 400 students, and my only average physical scores are not enough if I want to go off on a journey. A journey in Kalos, despite being one of the more peaceful regions, is filled with unexpected dangers and vast, unexplored, territory. In earlier times, mere ten year old children had been allowed to leave, and with nearly no training. As death tolls mounted, people began to rightfully question the humanity of such a "rite of passage." Directly resulting from this came the minimum age requirement being bumped to 16 and at least four years in a federally-acknowledged Trainer School becoming necessary before receiving even a Class Five license, the lowest, which only allows for non-Dragon, Psychic, Dark, Fairy, and Ghost Pokémon below the size of four feet and younger than one year, with very few exceptions. Pokémon with these specifications are often the easiest to raise and train, and are most definitely less dangerous to the trainer.

Reaching to my toes, I really feel the strength behind my lithe body that hours of working out a day give. My discipline is often remarked on by my few friends, but I am almost alone in this. The number of people interested in careers, or even a journey with Pokémon, dwindled with each year of training at the public academy I attend. While I may not be the top of my class in anything, I take pride in my own seriousness and my generally above-average marks. I know for a fact that I study the hardest and work the hardest in my class. Others may try, but they don't have my own one-track mind.

Perhaps it is merely a sense of vanity that I can't shake off, my own pride in my work-ethic. I don't stand out for any other real reason, despite my shockingly green eyes and silvery gray hair. After nearly six years, two more than the mandatory, I barely know the names of 30 or 40 of my classmates. Truly, I don't have time for them. Those that get by on talent alone disgust me. Those who have the potential for greatness, but flounder, fill me with rage.

Falling to the ground, I shake off my darker thoughts with a quick set of 20 push-ups. Today is, hopefully, a day of joy. Many of those who enter the testing facility will leave disappointed in their marks, or indifferent. The acceptance rate for a Class Five license is a measly 14.7% of the applicants, and while the odds may not be in my favor, I am determined to achieve my goal.

Rushing downstairs, I quickly gulp down a glass of one percent Moomoo Milk, devour three sausages from the same source, and toss a hard-boiled Pidgey egg into my mouth. With a small, but compact, energizing, and long-lasting meal down, I sit and begin to crack open several text-books about herbal remedies, type-advantages, anatomy, and the like. For the past two months, I've read and re-read these books, but it's never enough. I'm talented in skimming, and I know I can get the general gist of something this large within an hour, but to memorize specific formulas and charts takes time and energy I have thus far been unable to procure sufficiently. There is so much I don't know, and so much I need to know, that I almost feel overwhelmed at times. Of course, there's nothing for these feelings but to study harder.

Glancing at the clock, my mouth falls agape. I must've lost track of time, because I have a mere twenty minutes to get across Santalune City and reach the test facility.

Jumping up and jamming the books into my bag so that I can continue to read up while waiting, I curse myself for my inattention. John and Portia, both good friends, will have a good ten or fifteen minute wait before I actually arrive. I grab a few energy bars and my Student I.D. Card before rushing out the door, just in time to catch my bus.

* * *

Rushing out of the bus doors before nearly every other passenger, I sprint to the check-in desk. Luckily, John and Portia are both waiting near the very front of the line. With a few mumbled excuses, I make my way towards the couple. John, cropped blond hair shining in the dull light, waves to me cheerfully as I step next to him.

"Took you long enough, Eren," Portia grumbles irritably. Equal parts intelligent and beautiful, I admire Portia for both her talent and diligence. I cannot say the respect is mutual. "John and I have been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes. You're more than a little late."

"Come on, now," John replies, shoving me forward good-naturedly as he comes to my defense. "You know he has a lot on his mind, as we all do. Lay off, if only for today, okay?" He brushes back Portia's straightened auburn hair, causing her to blush and hide her face in response.

Shifting my attention away from the two, I sign in, and not a minute too late. Almost immediately after opening to the page I had left off in _A Trainer's Guide to Compound Creation_, I am called forward. Depositing my bag anxiously with the still bickering John and Portia, I stiffly move towards the instructor's aide, who gives me a reassuring smile at my nervousness.

"Test Applicant 598 is entering the room!" she shouts, patting my on the back as I make my way to a bare wooden table with a similarly bare chair. The fairly elderly man across from me has a full head of ruffled and jet-white hair, and he's wearing a seemingly freshly ironed purple button-down along with a white lab coat. Toying with his pencil and clipboard, he nods at me with a friendly smile as I settle down into the rather uncomfortable chair.

"They really need to replace these," he grunts, shifting in his seat. "The name's Professor Augustine Sycamore. You may have heard of me, or you may not have. I used to be one of the chief Professors during my prime, but you may be more familiar with my son-"

"Professor Luke Sycamore, who has continued your earlier research into Mega-Evolution. While you simply studied it in general, paving the path for future Pokémon Professors, your own son specializes in testing for and unlocking potential Mega-Evolution. Within his work alone, the number of known Pokémon with access to Mega-Evolution has increased to over 60," I cut him off, hoping to both surprise him and give a good impression. While I had not recognized the renowned Pokémon Professor initially, due to his advanced age, I knew his reputation well. "It would be more surprising if I hadn't heard the results of the two of yours' research.

"You seem to be well-informed… ah, what was your name?" he inquired with a raised eye-brow.

"My name is Eren Duval, sir. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And polite, as well! You're off to a good start," he shot back with a small grin. The smile soon faded as he straightened, glancing back to his clipboard. "Without further ado, Eren, we should begin with your mental assessment, testing both if you have the necessary measure intelligence and knowledge to begin a journey. I hope you've taken things seriously and studied, as I would hate for the beginning of your own adventure to be cut off because of simple examination scores."

"Of course, sir."

"Alrighty then. There will be no time limit imposed, so please think through your answers. To begin, please describe the effects on Fairy and Dragon Pokémon within Misty Terrain with appropriate terms…"

* * *

I rub my eyes as I shake Professor Sycamore's rough hand. The examination had only taken twenty minutes, but it had most likely been the hardest testing I've ever experienced. The amount of information that had to be covered in such a short time was mind boggling, but I feel that I've done well enough to pass, at the very least. After all, that's truly all one can want.

Stretching as I walk through the heavy metal door, I am greeted by a massive indoor obstacle course, on such a scale that left me blinking in surprise. The blonde instructor snaps her thin fingers at me to draw my attention away from the course before me and to where it belongs. Holding a thin, but heavily toned, figure, her features seem vaguely familiar to me.

"The name's Korrina. I was formerly the Gym Leader in Shalour City, and today I'm your instructor for the physical portion of these exams. Feel free to grab any of the equipment you feel you might need behind me before alerting me you're prepared. At that point, I'll give you instructions on exactly how this obstacle course should be run," she says in an authoritative tone while gesturing to a rack of expensive and compact looking clothing and equipment. She nods to simple wooden door beside the metal rack. "There's a changing room over there. Take your time."

Still rather shocked by the revelation of my next instructor's identity, I began to sort through what I believe might be helpful in completing the obstacle course. Korrina was a legendary trainer during her time; one of the handful able to Mega-Evolve their Pokémon. Despite that her own Lucario had succumbed to an undetected brain tumor nearly a decade ago, Korrina remained the Gym Leader of Shalour City for about three more years before stepping down.

Disappearing behind the door and into a nearby closet, I swiftly flung on the thin clothes. Both easy to maneuver in and comfortable to wear, the spandex clothing sticks like a second skin to me. Stepping outside of the room, the former Gym Leader looks me up and down with her never-wavering glare.

"At the very least you seem to have prepared for this. Can't tell just how many times a person has come in here expecting to pass without being in even decent shape. Can't run from a horde of angry Beedrill or Gogoat without a bit of muscle," she commented, her voice flat and analytical. "If you'll proceed to the starting line, I'll take the liberty of explaining how this test will work."

Taking my place at the aforementioned line, I glance back at her and give the older woman a nod. "This is going to be timed, of course, and your score will be based upon the time. All obstacles must be passed through, not around in some way. If you fail a specific obstacle, such as falling off of that rock wall over there," she gestures with a hand. "Simply get back up and continue. Just to keep you aware, if you don't complete this in less than ten minutes… well, you'll be considered as unfit for the journey, regardless of your other scores. Regulations have tightened very recently, putting a large emphasis on physical fitness. Can't say that I disagree."

"I understand, ma'am. Thank you for your consideration."

At this, she smiles. "Polite as well? You're a model candidate." Raising her hand, she opens a nearby panel with a large button contained within. "Good luck to you. On your mark… get set… GO!" Reacting to her voice, I leap from the starting line and begin the second phase of examination.

* * *

Watching on from a nearby window, a blue-haired man in a suit sips from a cup of water. Glancing over to the white haired man who had come to stand beside him, he sets the cup down and folds his hands across his chest.

"The kid's not bad. Rather promising, from the looks of it," he comments while watching the kid climb slowly, but steadily, up a tree. "Better than I was during my physical examination, from what I can remember."

Professor Augustine Sycamore simply laughs. "You barely made the cut-off, Sable! For the son of a Champion, your performance was quite unsatisfactory."

The young man grimaces, ruffling his blue hair. "Don't remind me. I got an earful from Dad afterwards. Kept going on and on about how 'I hadn't taken my workouts seriously.' Thank Arceus my practical and mental assessments were unusually high, or I probably would've been kept back in Hoenn to manage research in Devon… So what do you think of this guy? Sure is beating the last couple of applicants by quite a bit."

Professor Sycamore scrunches his eyebrows, thinking. "His mental assessment was solid enough, but he definitely wasn't something fantastic. As long as he doesn't screw up here or on practical, I'm sure he'll qualify. He does have a strong grasp of Pokémon anatomy, I'll give him that." Briefly, he sips from his own glass. "Very up-to date on his info. As in, within the last week up-to date."

Sable Stone grunts in response. "He really wants this, I guess."

Laughing once again, Sycamore nods. "The thing is, most of them do, coming in. After seeing just how much work they have to put in, though? A lot of them are happy they didn't even pass."

* * *

"Get dried off and take a quick rest. You have your practical assessment next, Eren," Korrina shouts to the drenched young man.

"Excuse me, Ms. Korrina… but what time did I make?" I question, out of breath from the exertion required to complete the course in a timely manner.

Pursing her lips, she replies with a small hesitation. "You made it in 8:12. Your time could be worse, I suppose." Making a quick note on her clipboard, she fashions a shooing motion with her hand. I take that as my cue to leave the room.

I groan inwardly as I close the door behind me into the intermediary room before my practical examination. I had talked with others about typical times for these obstacle courses, and I most certainly don't like how the assessment turned out. I had started out strong, but quickly tired as the demands of my body couldn't be met. Disappointing as it was, I resolve to focus myself. With a, likely, decent mental score and a, perhaps, less than acceptable physical score, I could probably make things up in the practical section.

An area where most people flounder, the practical assessment is meant to test the natural ability of a person to bond with a Pokémon in battle. Given a random Pokémon that is previously trained to acclimate itself to the common trainer, the applicant must fight an instructor using an equally random Pokémon and demonstrate the potential and knowledge of battle. Many who showed decent mental and physical scores failed miserably here due to lack of experience with Pokémon, or from pure lack of studying of the theory behind battle due to the dubbed "practicality" test that it was. Luckily for me, with both my parents having gone on journeys of their own, I constantly received first-hand battle theory during their arguments, whether I liked it or not. Occasionally, they'd blow up a cabinet or two with their own battles within the house. It was destructive and purel unnecessary, but it helped to blow steam.

Regardless of the morality of initiating a Pokémon battle in the middle of a household containing a child, I knew it would certainly help that I had seen Pokémon in conflict before. In addition to that, I had treated the practical assessment like I would any of the other sections: with levity.

The door to the next room creaked open, revealing a young, blonde man wearing massive spectacles and a near full-body utility suit with four metallic arms attached to the back.

"Excuse me, do you happen to be a Mr. Rowe?" he asks hesitantly, scanning the clipboard held by one mechanical hand. Frowning, he begins to mutter to himself. "My bad, would you be Mr. Duval, then?"

Standing up immediately, I nod. "Yes, sir. And you wouldn't happen to be a certain Clemont of the Lumiose City Gym, would you?" In response to his sheepish nod, I grasp his hand and vigorously shake it with my own. "It's an honor to meet you, sir! I had no clue so many influential figures would be at this year's testing!"

Looking just a bit uncomfortable with the contact, I release my admittedly tight grip and lower my hands. "Most of us come down, if only to help. Challenges are suspended everywhere during this time, anyways, so there's not much to miss back in Lumiose. As such, I've been helping out with the work-load here. Oh, but don't worry," he assured me. "You won't be battling me or anything for your practical. I have you down with… hrm."

I furrow my brow. "Is something wrong, sir?"

Chewing his bottom lip, Clemont grabs an electronic device from his pocket and does a double-take. "Strange… I could've sworn you'd have been tested by one of the trainers who likes to hang out at the Laverre Gym… I guess you were shuffled?" He shakes his head. "Hasn't happened all day. Welp, there's nothing for it. Please step this way," he mutters, rather troubled, as he gestures at the doorway he's standing within.

As I walk through, I am presented with a table containing three Poké Balls, each with a different marking on top. Clemont gently pushes me towards a wooden chair next to the three balls and then goes to stand beside the table.

"We're trying something new out this year. Instead of one, random Pokémon given to you, you'll have the option to choose between three of varying age, strength, and experience. In addition, you'll be given your opponent's name and their Pokémon before the fight begins. I suppose it's meant to help demonstrate knowledge of match-up theory and strategic thinking based upon a Pokémon's abilities… not sure, myself. The higher-ups are looking for a greater success rate in this section, and they figured this could help." He shakes his head, looking a little annoyed. "Anyways, on to your choices."

Moving towards the first ball, he picks it up. "This contains a year and a half year old Growlithe cub. It's been trained by someone within… Sinnoh, I believe. Judged to have tremendous potential, it has demonstrated the natural affinity for fire and the reckless bravery common to its kind. In addition, it has been noticed that its roars can cause a certain sense of intimidation in other Pokemon." Shifting towards the second, he once again picks the Poké Ball up. "Within this one is contained a seven year old Corsola who was raised in Hoenn. From what we've seen, it has less natural talent than the former or the upcoming Pokémon, but has had a large amount of training in comparison. It's rather the gentle type, to be honest, and seems to repair injuries quicker than most of its kind." Moving to the last one with a happy sigh, he picks it up tenderly. "From my favorite typing, this ball contains a four year old Blitzle with lesser potential. Trained, of course, within Unova, it has demonstrated unusual determination and the ability to absorb plant-like aggression from others rather well."

Stepping away, one of his mechanical arms pulls up a memo to Clemont's face. "Apparently, your new opponent is someone who hails from Hoenn. They've been given a fairly young Honedge for this battle. Choose wisely based upon your own knowledge of this Pokémon's strengths and weaknesses. Oh…" he mutters to me as he steps into the next room. "Good luck to you. You've made a solid impression on me, and I'd hate for you to lose a chance at a magnificent journey that will forever shape your life. It's truly worth the hard work."

Closing the wooden door with a thud, I set to deciding which Pokémon would be most suitable to face a Honedge. The obvious choice is, of course, Growlithe. From what I can gather, this particular Growlithe is naturally talented and holds one of the more common of its kind's notable abilities: Intimidate. Perfect for dealing with a physically inclined Pokémon like Honedge, it would, hopefully, help intimidate it into non-aggression. However, Growlithe, being the youngest out of the three choices, would most definitely be outclassed in terms of experience. Of course, to amend that, there was Corsola. Its defensive strength would allow it to outpace Honedge in that particular aspect, but could do little otherwise. That left Blitzle, which seemed redundant to go over, as it had no particular advantage over Growlithe except for being naturally faster, which won't be a problem in the first place in terms of out speeding such a slow Pokémon as Honedge.

Shaking my head out of my musings, I select the ball with a fiery marking on top. The choice is obvious enough when simply looking at both of their typings, but Growlithe is also the most suited towards dealing with most physical attackers in comparison to the other two.

Walking out into the next room, I'm momentarily blinded by the stadium lights before getting a good look at the swath of land before me. Styled as the summit of a mountain, I observe both Clemont and a blue-haired young man, scarcely older than me, to be talking on the far side of the field. Noticing my entrance, Clemont bades the man good-bye and jogs over to me rather impatiently.

"You finally came out? Good. Sable's getting restless for your battle, although I honestly can't imagine why. Still," he remarks. "Lucky you, or unlucky depending on how you look at it. It isn't every day that you get a chance at fighting the son of a former Champion.

My mouth drops open. "That's Sable Stone? The son of Steven Stone, the Steel-type specialist who constantly competed with Wallace for the place of Hoenn Champion?" My mind is completely blown at this fact.

Clemont grunts in response. "He's normally so lax about these things, always complaining. I'm rather astonished that he felt the need to push himself into the system for a battle. Rather strange, but whatever. Regardless of whether you win or lose, just remember that you will be judged based solely upon your ability to battle, not necessarily the results." Patting me on the back, he gives me a warm smile. "Good luck."

The Lumiose City Gym Leader and renowned inventor walks into a nearby building as a referee comes out. The ref, holding several papers, confirms with me that I am, in fact, Eren Duval before confirming that Sable was, of course, Sable Stone. After checking both of our Pokémon, he walks to a nearby podium and mounts himself on top of it.

"This will be an assessment of the practical skills of Applicant 598, Eren Duval, by volunteer Sable Stone. Both of you have been given random Pokémon, with Mr. Stone having a Honedge and Mr. Duval having a Growlithe. Mr. Duval, you should remember that the outcome of the battle will not affect your scores in any drastic way, although winning does make sure that your minimum score will be a passing one. I also expect this fight to be clean and proper, following the basic rules of tournament battling. You both have been given one Full Heal and one Potion to use whenever you feel it necessary. If anything gets out of hand, my Blastoise and I will take intervening action to make sure that neither trainer is hurt. Have I made myself clear?" The two of us nod, Sable impatiently and me vigorously. "Then please, prepare your Pokémon."

"Good luck, Eren. You're gonna need it," Sable taunts as he releases his Honedge, the sword Pokémon hissing at the ref and me in anticipation. Gulping, I toss the Pokéball containing Growlithe into the air, where it hangs, suspended for a moment, before releasing the Fire-type Pokémon. After a drawn out howl, the youthful cub begins sniffing the ground and barking eagerly at anything moving. I bend down and scratch its ears, which it seems to enjoy immensely. Licking my fingers, it watches me as I stand back up and gesture pointedly towards the Honedge. Getting the message with only a small delay, the loyal Growlithe roars his best at the Honedge, immediately causing it to shudder in what I assumed to be fear.

Glancing at both of us and assuring himself that we had acquainted ourselves with the strange Pokémon, the ref raised his hands. "Now that you're both ready, we'll begin. Battlers set… begin!"

Based upon my knowledge, while fully aware that my opponent has a Full Heal, I bark to my Growlithe to burn the Honedge with one of the more common Fire-type moves: Will-O-Wisp. Characterized by an almost ghostly flame, it has reasonable accuracy along with an assured burn, which would lower Honedge's offensive strength even further along with the intimidation it received.

To my surprise, Sable did not instantly heal his Honedge, a pensive look covering his features.

"Honedge, harden yourself in defense! Become like iron!" he shouts at his severely burned Pokémon. I curse as I realize what he's doing in raising Honedge's defensive stats. He plans to stall out my Growlithe's strength with the physically defensive powers of Honedge. In tandem with a free Full Heal to use whenever he feels like it and a Potion, his strategy could well turn the tide against the type dis-advantage Honedge is facing.

"Growlithe, surround yourself in flames and burrow into the Honedge!" I command, hoping to cause enough damage to knock it out before Sable's Honedge becomes unstoppable. Dust rises as the two collide, but upon clearing, Growlithe is left slightly panting while the Honedge is scorched, but relatively healthy.

"Continue to bolster yourself, Honedge. Don't worry about the Growlithe," Sable says, smirking. He realizes that the battle may already be won. I had been too hasty in quickly burning the Honedge before finding out what he had planned during the time before the battle. It was likely to cost me, despite the type advantage.

"Growlithe, repeat your fiery charge! Continue to hit the Honedge with whatever you've got!" I shouted desperately. I understand, mentally, that losing didn't particularly matter to my scores. However, a loss in the very beginning of my career would hurt my ego far more than I cared to envision. I wanted to win this. I needed to.

As Growlithe continues to collide and Honedge continues to become stronger, defensively, I could tell that ground, however little, is being made. It's growing tired far faster than my Growlithe, and I know that if I can just get a little lucky I might be able to pull off a win. However, Sable knew this as well.

"Referee, I would like to use both my Full Heal and my Potion!"

Holding the match at a standstill while Sable heals his Pokémon, the ref glares at my Growlithe's furious features. It is, of course, very unhappy with how things are turning out. Despite the type advantage, the young cub's attacks aren't nearly strong enough to defeat the far more experienced and physically defensive Honedge, it seems. I scan my mind for possible abilities that the Growlithe might have that would be able to break Honedge's defenses, but none came to mind. There was the possibility that the Growlithe might have some specially oriented move, but from what I knew, most Growlithes did not learn these moves naturally. It was very unlikely that he knew any sort of move. I could also attempt to stall out the Honedge's strength with another burn. This strategy seems to be the only one that's viable, so I resolve to use it just as the referee blows his whistle to continue the match.

"Growlithe, burn your target once again!" I command, gesturing towards the restored Honedge. Hesitating only momentarily due to his exhaustion, the ever fearless cub pounces towards the ghostly sword, propelling equally ghostly flames. Seeing that the Honedge was shocked to be burned once again, I take the chance to command my Pokémon to move again. "Growlithe, continue to pound it with your flames!"

Chuckling from across the field, Sable smiles. "You're really putting a lot into this, aren't you, Eren? Just as intriguing as I thought you'd be." Returning to his previous seriousness, he yells to the Honedge once again. "Honedge, build up your strength with a fencer's dance!"

My eyes widen in shock. I had completely forgotten that Honedge received what most call Swords Dance. I mentally facepalm. There should be no way for me to forget such a detail when Honedge is literally a sword, but regardless of my own supidity, I realize that the stall won't work out well for me. Despite the fact that the burn will cut Honedge's offensive prowess by quite a bit, along with the intimidation factor, it will still be able to boost its strength past that. In addition to its already heavy defenses, there is nearly no way for me to break through.

Perhaps sensing my anxiety, the Growlithe cub turns to me, a perplexed look in its eyes, before charging at the Honedge once again. The fight continues like this for a while, with the Honedge boosting itself and Growlithe slamming into it while surrounded by fire. I'm clutched by indecision, as there seems to be no way to get out of this. Finally, in a great surge of strength, Honedge is launched backwards by one of Growlithe's charges. I snap back into attention, realizing that this battle will be decided soon. The Honedge, its defensive and offensive strength at maximum, is heavily damaged. Despite this, my own Growlithe is battered and exhausted from the constant collisions.

"Growlithe, pour everything into this next charge!" I shout, attempting to rally my Pokémon's loyal spirit.

"Honedge, unleash a slide of rocks to wrap things up," the son of the former Hoenn Champion says sternly.

In a burst of speed, Honedge is slammed by the Growlithe's fire, sending it tumbling into a nearby boulder. I call to the Growlithe to retreat and hopefully dodge the incoming, powerful attack, but then I realize just how Sable had planned this out.

With the ability that all Honedges have, No Guard, nothing can miss from or to the Honedge. Whatever attack he has planned will most definitely hit. With this in mind, I go back on my previous command, shouting at the Growlithe to continue on the attack.

Confused at the conflicting commands, the cub hesitates for just a bit too long before being slammed by several well-sized rocks at a breath-taking speed. Dust rises on both sides of the field, and as it clears, I can see that my own Pokémon has passed out from the momentous power of the Honedge's attack. The referee, noticing this also, calls the match.

"As Growlithe is unable to battle, the winner is the volunteer, Sable Stone, and his Honedge. Well played by both of you," he announces before stepping down and taking his notes into the nearby building that Clemont had disappeared into.

Recalling Growlithe into the Poké Ball I had been gifted, I jumped at the sight of Sable Stone suddenly in front of me, a small smile plastered upon his face.

"That was a solid battle, Eren. Solid as rock," he jokes, making a pun upon our battle's ending and his own last name. Noticing my disappointed look, his features soften. "No need to be upset. It was only a practice battle, after all."

"Of course, Mr. Stone," I respond, respectfully. "It's just my first trainer battle is all. I had been hoping to win, but it should have been obvious to me that I can't defeat someone with years of battling experience, regardless of the situation.

At this, he frowns. "You did well. You realize that, right? I was in a corner. I couldn't let you use your Potion, or you might just have outlasted Honedge. I also made a mistake in using my Full Heal so early, as it did nothing but remove residual damage for only a turn. In truth, I should've waited so I could take you out in a single hit at full strength. Because of that mistake, you backed me into a corner. If you hadn't messed up with the commands at the end, that battle probably would've been yours." He shrugs. "As your first battle against a well-seasoned trainer, regardless of the fact that we received random Pokémon, it was impressive." Grinning, he glances at the building where I assume Clemont and the ref are discussing the match's results. "To be honest, I was rather curious about you. You had scored the best that I had seen so far, and I was uncharacteristically feeling up to a challenge today, in terms of a battle. I reasoned that there was no greater challenge than fighting someone with a random Pokémon, and boy, I must say, it wasn't easy. The bond between Pokémon and trainer is what truly makes the pair strong, not a Pokémon's abilities or either of their experience levels. Without that bond? It left me far more vulnerable to defeat than I had realized. Not to mention that you chose the perfect Pokémon to counter my Honedge." He scratches the back of his head, sighing. "What were your other choices?"

Surprised at his monologue, I blink. "Uh, a Blitzle and a Corsola."

Sable laughs out loud. "I'm shocked, pun intended by the way, that Clemont didn't force you to take the Blitzle… although, if we're being honest, the only other viable choice was Corsola due to it commonly carrying specially oriented moves, but the advantages over Growlithe are dubious at best. How young is that cub? It seemed very eager."

"I believe Clemont stated that it was about a year and a half old, Mr. Stone. Why?"

He nods to himself. "It must be extremely talented. Growlithe in general don't truly develop until two years have passed. A bit of a shame you can't take it with you. Have you been told already what your starting options will be?"

"Actually, I've heard-"

I'm interrupted by the sound of Clemont's voice as he opens the door. "Mr. Duval? Please come this way. We'll be giving you the results of your assessment." Slipping back into the building, he shuts the aged wooden door silently.

"Well," Sable mutters as he pats me on the back. "Good luck, kid. You're gonna turn into a fine trainer someday, I can feel it in my bones." Reaching into his back-pocket, he pulls out a slim cell phone. "You got a number? It's customary for trainers who've had a good battle to call each other for rematches, occasionally, and I'm curious how things'll turn out for you. What do you say?" he asks, giving me an appraising look.

Once again surprised by his familiarity, I registered my number onto his phone before making my way towards the nearby building, gulping in anticipation. Sable seemed to have confidence in me, but I wasn't so sure myself.

Stepping inside, I quietly close the door behind me and walk forward towards Clemont and Professor Sycamore. The two are in heated discussion over something, but as soon as they notice my presence, Professor Sycamore coughs and halts their conversation.

"Well," he says in a neutral tone. "We have some good news, Eren. You've passed the assessment by a wide margin, earning yourself a Class Five License. As I remember, you described it in vivid detail during out testing phase, so I doubt it'll be necessary for me to give my assigned spiel on it, correct?" he questions with a grin.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized that I had been holding in relief. Everything I had worked for up until now had come to fruition. All the hours improving my physical condition, all the late nights studying, had finally paid off in ways that I could only begin to imagine. "Yes, sir, I believe it won't be necessary. May I ask about my options for a starting Pokémon?"

Clemont drops a box onto the table before opening it wide. Within are five Poké Balls, each marked similarly to the ones in the preparation room I had met the Lumiose Gym Leader in.

"Each of these includes a Kalos native Pokémon. All are younger than one year, and none are of any of the prohibited typings. Here," he remarks, gesturing to a the first Pokéball. "Is a Fletchling. Easy to raise and it becomes strong quickly. A good beginner's Pokémon. Moving on, we have Scatterbug. It evolves quickly, but reaches maximum power early on. Also a good beginner's Pokémon. Now this one," he says, his tone changing. "Requires a bit more work. An Aumara is a very rare Pokémon, and due to your scores, you have been allowed to have this as one of your options. It is much harder than the former two. This next one, once again from my favorite typing, is much easier to raise, similar to the first two. This is a Helioptile, and it is well worth the amount of time taken to raise it. The last, and final Pokémon, you have access to is a Skiddo. An excellent Pokémon all around, Skiddo would also be a big help due to your status as a beginner. So," he says, taking in a large breath as he pauses from his speech. "Which of these is to your-"

Clemont is suddenly interrupted by a beeping noise from an object contained within one of his arms. Smiling sheepishly, he opens the phone and listens as another man speaks. Slowly, his embarrassed smile turns into a small frown. Closing the phone after a minute, he turns back to me.

"Seems that there's been a change of selection, here. The Aumara has been promised to someone else, but in its place, a certain volunteer offered a non-Kalos native Pokémon. I can't say I entirely approve, but you may choose a Beldum, if you like, under exception #7 on your Class Five License. It's entirely allowed, but keep in mind, whatever Mr. Stones was thinking, that Beldum is extremely hard to raise and will take a long time before its strength is fully realized. I, personally, wouldn't recommend it-"

"Come now, Clemont! Isn't that half of the fun? The challenge?" Professor Sycamore questioned eagerly, his interest caught on the change of events. "I say that Eren should go ahead and reach for it! It isn't often one gets the chance to acquire such a rare and potentially powerful Pokémon as Beldum." Shifting, he turns to Eren. "Don't be intimidated by the work required, son. It's half the experience, growing alongside your partner."

I'm torn at the very thought. I'd researched Beldum in limited amounts, and they were known for being rather weak in terms of overall ability. With only a handful of moves, there was little they could do to an enemy. However, both Metang and Metagross arguably made up for Beldum's severe lack of offensive presence in that both were extremely powerful, not to mention rare. Beldum, being the signature Pokémon of the Stones family, hasn't often been seen within tournament battling outside of the members of that specific family. As such, I'm rather hesitant to pick it.

However, I elect to side with Professor Sycamore on this. My dream was finally being fulfilled, why not take a handful of risks? Besides, even though training a Psychic Pokémon was usually prohibited by a Class Five License, I had heard wonderful stories of trainer's and Psychic or Ghost type Pokémon bonding with the telepathy that is common to their kind. I am sure that, while Beldum may not be capable of it, its evolutions certainly would be able to.

"Thank you both for your advice," I answer politely. "But I think that Beldum is certainly the best choice."

Clemont frowns, but Professor Sycamore grins in delight. Patting me on the back, he leads me outside, presumably to pick up the absent Poké Ball that my Beldum will be contained in.

"Clemont can be a bit of a stickler sometimes. He dislikes things changing last minute, but I assure you, Eren, you're going to enjoy this journey. I believe that you understand well the dangers behind it, but being able to raise a Beldum isn't something that most people can boast of." He turns to face me, his face decidedly more serious. "Keep in mind that you will meet both kind and terrible people on your journey. Some believe Pokémon to be mere tools, not companions. Others abuse their Pokémon in hopes that it will make them stronger. Many trainers will help you, but almost just as many will be looking to hurt you, steal from you, or otherwise hinder you. Be cautious, and most importantly, be aware of what's happening around you. Never allow yourself to be cornered."

As we near the exit to the practical exam area, the Professor turns to me, his warm smile returning. "While you're here, and when you feel ready, go ahead and try your hand at the Santalune City Gym. Your Beldum, with its Steel and Psychic typing, should do just fine after a bit of work with it, and it'll be a great experience in terms of battling." Patting me on the back, he pushes me through the door. "Whenever you reach Lumiose, come by my son's office. If you tell him that I know you, he'll be sure to contact me and I'll come down to greet you. Perhaps we could even arrange a small deal in terms of assisting with Luke's research."

I walk away from Professor Sycamore, filled with his encouraging words. I understand that this journey will be difficult, but, hopefully with Portia and John at my side, it most certainly would be worth the effort. Reaching the entrance, an imposing man wearing a suit and sunglasses halts me, offering a brief case. As I open it, I know that my journey has just begun.

It will be long, that's for sure. It will contain many challenges, what with wild Pokémon, rogue trainers, and various natural dangers… but it will certainly be worth it. Especially with a new partner.

I thank the man and step outside into a park area where many other newly appointed trainers are greeting their partners for the very first time. Cracking open the black brief case with the name "Stone" written on top of it, I peer inside at a Poké Ball marked with a small, gray square and an equally small purple wave. Lifting it from its containment while ignoring the various papers and information within, I release my first partner. After the brief, but bright, flash of light fades, I'm staring into a large, focused, but confused red eye.

I take a deep breath before smiling at the young, floating enigma of a creature.

"Hello there, Beldum. My name's Eren Duval."

**A/N: I worked on this for quite a while, and though I do feel the final result to be a bit off from what I initially had planned to write, I still think it's alright, in terms of a piece of literature. Please, leave a favorite or review if you feel like it. I may make this into a multi-shot… but probably not. It will likely remain as it is.**

**Until next time, have a nice day!**


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